Chapter 11 Jenny
Jenny
The motel room was too quiet.
Poppy was asleep in the bed next to me, the connecting door closed but not locked. I paced the room, telling myself it was just because my mind was on Jarod, but maybe it was because I couldn’t stop this panic feeling.
Couldn’t stop thinking.
Couldn’t stop hearing every sound outside, certain it was my brother coming for us.
The clock on the nightstand glowed 1:14 a.m.
I stared at that door between our rooms until I couldn’t take it anymore.
Finally, I opened it and stepped through.
Liam was sitting in the chair by the window, boots off, T-shirt clinging to him like the heat in this room didn’t bother him at all. His eyes lifted the second I walked in, and there was no surprise there.
Like maybe he’d been waiting for me.
“You okay?” His voice was low, rough around the edges.
I nodded, even though it wasn’t true. “I just… I can’t sleep.”
He stood, closing the space between us in two slow steps. “You scared?”
“Yes,” I whispered.
He reached out, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear like it was the most natural thing in the world. “Come here,” he murmured.
And I did.
I didn’t know who moved first after that. Maybe both of us.
But one moment I was standing there, shaking from the inside out, and the next his arms were around me, strong and warm, pulling me against him like he could hold the whole world together if he had to.
And God help me, I let him.
Because for the first time in a long time, I didn’t feel like I was carrying this all alone.
His mouth found mine slowly, nothing rushed, nothing desperate. Just the kind of kiss that made my chest ache because it was soft when I expected everything to hurt.
“Jenny,” he murmured against my lips, like my name meant something.
The back of my legs hit the bed, and then I was lying there with him above me, his weight careful, his eyes locked on mine like he was giving me every chance to stop this.
I didn’t.
Because when his hands slid up my sides, when his mouth trailed along my jaw, when he kissed the hollow of my throat like I was something precious—
I didn’t want to stop.
He undressed me slowly, like every second mattered. Like I mattered. His mouth brushed across my collarbone, my ribs, the curve of my hip, and every touch was reverent, as if this wasn’t just about heat but something heavier threading between us.
When I finally pulled his shirt off, my hands shook. Not from fear. From everything else.
“Jenny,” he whispered again, like he was holding on to the sound of it.
And then there was nothing between us but skin and the kind of quiet that feels like a promise.
He moved inside me slow, so slow it stole my breath. Like he wanted to memorize this, every heartbeat, every shiver, every broken sound caught in my throat.
I clung to him, to the steady rhythm of his body against mine, to the way his forehead pressed to mine like he didn’t want to be anywhere else.
And for Liam… it wasn’t just about need.
I felt it in the way he kissed me between breaths, the way his hands held me like I was something he wasn’t ready to lose.
I didn’t know what it meant for me yet, or I didn’t want to admit to anything.
But for him…. I didn’t know what it meant.